


Stranger's Kiss

by mymoonagedaydream



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bartender Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mymoonagedaydream/pseuds/mymoonagedaydream
Summary: Heartbroken and lost, the neon city streets seemed to guide you to exactly where you needed to be.This story is inspired by lyrics from Alex Cameron's 'Stranger's Kiss'.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Stranger's Kiss

> _Don’t even bother climbing out of the well_
> 
> _That ain’t no way to get out of the hell that you’re in_

Four years.

You’d given him four years of your life, for what?

For you to walk into your bedroom and find him balls deep in some tramp from his office.

You left without a word, but it felt like something of yours had stayed there, with them. Like they’d chipped away a piece of you and left it lying there on the carpet.

As you walked aimlessly for hours, the city started to feel like it was dying around you. 

The night was made of flickering street lights, sirens, broken glass and junkies. You thought about leaving, starting somewhere fresh, but what was the point? You’d have to take your baggage with you wherever you went.

Keeping your head down and your pace swift, you half-listened to the faded whispers of people passing you in the street, but even those were eventually drowned out by the pattering of rain against the sidewalk. 

Turning into one of the city’s many dreary backstreets, you saw a solitary neon sign bathing the uneven concrete and murky puddles in a jarring red light. 

The only place that was open this late, Stark’s Bar.

It was the end of the earth, the rock under which all the sad and lonely insects of the city crawled. You’d never been inside, never before sunk low enough to warrant a visit, but tonight it seemed to be calling your name.

As soon as you tugged the door open, the heavy scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke hit you like a wall, knocking you backwards. But inside was warm, dry and quiet. 

That’s all you wanted.

Keeping your eyes fixed on the sticky, creaking floor, you trudged towards the bar, taking the first free stool you found. A broad torso planted itself opposite you, blocking out the dim light that streamed from underneath the crooked lampshades.

‘Double scotch.’

‘You sure you’re in the right place?’

The torso’s low voice came from above your head, but you didn’t bother glancing up. You didn’t have the energy or the inclination for conversation right now.

‘Double scotch.’

The dim light returned, only interrupted again when a tumbler flecked with hard water stains and half-full of liquor was dropped in front of you.

You stared at that glass for what felt like hours, just thinking.

There was no way you could go home tonight. You’d struggle to ever set foot in that apartment again, the whole place was scattered with painful reminders of everything you’d lost. Maybe you should call your mom, ask her to pick a few things up for you.

Tomorrow.

Tonight, just find a motel and sob yourself to sleep. 

* * *

> _I know you’re wondering why you wish you were dead  
>  And there’s no solace in the fact that it’s all in your head_

That flickering red light just kept leading you back to where you knew you belonged.

You dropped yourself on the same barstool and waited for the torso to plant itself in front of you again, ordering the same drink as you had for the past however many nights you’d been here. They all seemed to blur into one.

Something different happened this time, though.

The shadow didn’t shift. You waited, eyes fixed downwards, but the dim yellow light didn’t return.

‘Are you alright?’

This was only the second time you’d heard the torso speak, but the voice was much firmer than last time.

‘Fine.’

‘So you’re depressed and a liar? Not a great combination.’

Your eyes shot up, widening a little as you took in the monolith of a man in front of you. His dark, stained t-shirt was stretched over his thick shoulders, bright pink lips trained into a slight smirk as he kept his gaze fixed on you.

‘Excuse me?’

He placed his hands flat on the counter either side of you, bracing himself against the bar and bringing his face down to level with yours. ‘You been in here four nights in a row. Ordered a double scotch without even looking at me, sat for a couple hours staring at it and then left without a word. You’re telling me you’re fine? Whatever.’

‘Maybe it’s none of your goddamn business, asshole.’

'So drink at home.’

You watched him back away, his sharp blue eyes only breaking from yours when he eventually turned around.

He was right, you definitely weren’t fine, but you figured the only thing sadder than drinking in this place was picking up a ten dollar bottle of whiskey from a liquor store and drinking it alone in your motel room.

Besides, it made you feel a little better knowing that you probably weren’t the most tragic loser in the place.

* * *

> _Don’t bother flying when we jump off the cliff  
>  Make sure it’s head first if you don’t want to deal with what ifs_

When you arrived the next night, a double scotch was waiting on the bar above your usual stool.

You flicked your eyes up to the bartender, who gave you a nod and a knowing smile as you climbed onto your seat, your gaze slowly wandering down the length of his arms. The way they tensed and shifted as he slowly polished a glass was almost mesmerising.

It was only a minute or so before he approached.

‘Still fine?’

Maybe it was the crippling loneliness, the bottle of wine you’d had earlier in your motel room or just the fact that he was the only human being who’d smiled at you all week, but the idea of opening up and spilling all to this perfect stranger really wasn’t as unappealing as it should’ve been.

‘Been better.’

‘No shit.’ He reached a bottle of scotch from under the counter and topped up your drink, knowing full well you hadn’t so much as touched it yet. ‘I always thought we should rename this place Rock Bottom.’

A faint laugh escaped your lips. ‘Funnily enough, that doesn’t make me feel much better.’

‘Maybe not.’ He edged your drink a little closer to you. ‘But this will.’

The golden liquid rippled around the glass as you plucked it from the bar, squeezing your eyes shut and necking it down in one.

His smile widened into an astonished grin, making your face begin to heat up and your chest tighten slightly.

‘Bucky.’ 

‘Y/n.’ You felt the corners of your mouth curl up slightly, a movement they’d almost forgotten.

‘Nice smile, y/n.’

Your gaze stayed on him as he went back to work, serving all the other hopeless nonentities propping themselves up on the bar. It only wavered when you felt your phone vibrate against your thigh.

It was him, your ex, asking if you could talk. He wanted to work things out.

Five days since it’d happened and this was the first time he’d tried to get in touch.

This fucking asshole had banged some random bitch in your bed, made you to live out of a duffle bag in a sleazy motel for almost a week and then expected you to come crawling back as soon as he whistled?

Fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

He knew you’d be low and vulnerable. He knew you’d be tempted. He knew that, even now, you were still wrapped around his little finger.

> _And it hurts, and it hurts  
>  But I don’t wanna talk about it_

A rogue tear escaped from the corner of your eye, rolling halfway down your cheek before being quickly and firmly wiped away, its brief presence going unnoticed by most of the other figures scattered around the bar.

Most, not all. 

‘Hey, you see that dude over there?’

Bucky folded his arms on top of the bar so he was eye level with you, gesturing his head slightly towards a white-haired man in a three piece suit, sitting alone at a table in the corner behind two empty martini glasses.

You had no idea where this was going, but you were pretty glad for the distraction. ‘Mhmm.’

‘Used to be a millionaire. Invested all his money in CDs in ‘98 and lost it all when Steve Jobs invented the iPod. He was married to Claudia Schiffer for a couple months but she left him when he couldn’t afford to pay for her nose job.’

A single, full-throated guffaw escaped your lips, making you clamp your hand over your mouth before slowly lowering it and muttering. ‘That is absolute bullshit.’

‘You got me.’ He leaned in a little. ‘Fun though, right? You try.’

You bit your lip slightly, gazing at him for a few seconds before reluctantly nodding and beginning to scan the room. This place was so full of eccentrics and weirdos, it was difficult to choose just one.

'Alright. Woman over there.’

Bucky twisted slightly to look at a very broad, stern-looking woman sitting at the bar, wisps of dyed red hair clinging to the moisture on her forehead. ‘Go on.’

‘She used to work security for Bryan Adams. The two of them were best friends, but he fired her after she got hammered and told him that she was in love with him. She can’t listen to _Summer of ‘69_ without sobbing, he broke her heart.’

His eyes darted back to you. ‘And how did she feel about that?’

Your gaze was fixed on your subject but it felt more like you were looking straight through her, your mind wandering somewhere else entirely, words falling into your mouth spilling out involuntarily.

‘Like someone shoved their hand into her chest, grabbed a handful of anything they could feel and just ripped it out. Like all the sensations in her body had been permanently replaced with waves of fear and dread that got better and worse at seemingly random intervals. Like the last four years of her life meant nothing to-’

You stopped suddenly, eyes shooting back towards him as you realised what you’d said. He stood up straight, triumphantly folding his arms across his broad chest, smirking down at you.

‘Bingo.’

'Oh what do you think you are, a fucking shrink?’

'In this job, gotta be.’

> _'Cause in my dreams, I miss you  
>  Then I wake up to reality’s bliss_

For the first time, you decided to hang around at the bar until it closed. You weren’t sure why, you had no idea what you were hoping would happen, but every minute that passed made your motel room seem less and less appealing.

Bucky called last orders, and minutes later the few remaining dispossessed wandered out into the red-bathed side street.

You hoisted yourself onto your feet, turning to leave but stopping dead when a full bottle of whiskey was firmly planted on the bar in front of you, a very smug-looking barman smirking at you from behind it.

The two of you sequestered yourselves to a snug, dimly lit corner and began sharing the liquor straight from the bottle.

As you stared blankly out the front window, you could feel his eyes roaming over you, a sensation you were enjoying far more than you were letting on. Being this close, you could pick up his faint scent of old spice and cigarettes, you could hear his deep, slow breathing and feel his muscular thigh pressed up against yours.

‘He messed you up pretty good, huh?’ You nodded faintly, keeping your gaze fixed forward. ‘Wanna talk about it?’

‘Nothing to say, really. After four years I caught him fucking someone else. It is what it is.’

He scoffed, taking a long swig before holding the bottle out to you. ‘What a fucking asshole.’

‘Mhmm.’

‘If it helps, my last girlfriend stole my TV to buy weed.’

You almost choked on a mouthful of liquor, just about managing to swallow it as you choked back fits of laughter. ‘That does help, actually.’

‘Thought it might.’ He reached over and gently pried the bottle from your hand, placing it on the table and shifting himself to face you. ‘Seems like we’re both shit outta luck.’

‘You’re not wrong there.’

As you slowly turned towards him, the wild look in his eyes made the hard thumping in your chest quicken, your lungs tightening slightly as you rapidly pulled in shallow breaths. You to adjusted yourself as his arm slid over the back of your seat.

Letting your eyelids flutter closed, you focused on the gentle stroking of his fingertips over your shoulder, the feeling of his warm breath brushing over your lips as he leant towards you, the soft pressure of the side of his nose against yours and the muffled bump as your foreheads connected. 

Everything else melted from your mind, all the stress and misery of the last few days briefly disappearing in the distance as you just let yourself live in this moment. 

His hand moved up to cradle the side of your face, drawing it towards his and finally closing the gap between you.

> _Now all I ever wanted and all I ever needed is right here  
>  In the stranger’s kiss._


End file.
